


On The Edge

by virtigo



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Begging, Dom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dom/sub Play, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Forced Orgasm, Green/Yellow/Red System, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kneeling, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Degradation, Mild Painplay, Not Beta Read, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Sub Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Teasing, guided masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29262042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtigo/pseuds/virtigo
Summary: George loves teasing and Dream loves being teased
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 257





	On The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Check tags for anything that you may not like, I personally think that everything is quite mild but idk everyone has a different sensitivity :)
> 
> Everything is consensual of course!

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes since George texted him saying he’d be home soon and to be ready.

It goes without saying that Dream is already thrilled, but staring at the floor and familiar furniture of their bedroom isn’t the most fun thing he’d wish to be doing right now.

It’s quite boring actually. But it’s ok because George will be home any moment now so the boredom is sporadically pierced by random spikes of anticipation and excitement as Dream’s thoughts run free. He’s very much lacking external stimulation right now so his brain is working hard enough to flicker arousal just above his nose as he wonders what George may be planning. 

He can’t quite reach it yet, but it’s definitely there, crawling under his skin and flaring up every time one of his guesses tickles his fancy.

Every once in a while he also has to shift his weight, just to get more comfortable and make sure his legs don’t go completely numb. He likes this position though. Something about it makes him feel cozy and relaxed. It’s warm and he enjoys reveling in it. The best is when it’s short term though, as he won’t need to worry about his ankles cramping or his blood flow getting potentially cut off—

Clicking. And creaking. The door. 

Attentive, Dream’s head harshly turns to the side. He can hear the thud of the door closing and footsteps tapping along the floor. His ears perk up and his spine stretches that much straighter. Eyes locked on the closed door of the bedroom, the flame sparkles brighter under his skin.

He hears sounds that must come from the kitchen. George probably bought something and is putting it in place but come on, Dream thinks, wiggling his legs under his weight in an attempt to readjust them. Then, finally, he hears footsteps again. They grow louder and closer, their unhurried tempo makes his own pulse thrum in expectancy.

With a smooth motion the leaf of the door slowly swings open and Dream wonders what mood George is in. He licks his lips and looks up. His eyes are met by a soft smile so a smile of his own splits across Dream’s features.

“Up, Dream.” George says as he steps in and calmly walks towards him. Dream feels a bit exposed, only in his underwear as George is, obviously, fully clothed. Still, he follows George’s instruction and raises his hips so he’s no longer sitting on legs. There’s a brief moment of relief as blood flows unhindered all the way back through his lower legs, but he is also aware this position is a bit harder to keep on the long run.

“Hmm,” George hums approvingly, “already so obedient when I just got back? Maybe I should make you wait more often.”

Instead of answering Dream brings his eyes from George’s in front of him where he’s basically eye level with his crotch. He delves forward and plants a kiss through his jeans. It elicits a laugh out of George so Dream looks up and licks the fabric. He probably won’t feel it too much as his pants are somewhat thick, but it’s the thought that counts. 

A hand quickly weaves through his hair and yanks harshly. He hisses slightly and looks up.

“Not so hasty.” George looks down on him with a crooked smirk. 

The grip in his hair loosens and the hand is soon brought brushing down his face and under his chin where it prompts him to look up. Dream feels like melting in the touch and even when George has barely done anything he already feels himself getting worked up. He’s sick of waiting. 

George leans down, Dream thinks he’s going for a kiss but then he stops just when Dream tips his chin higher. He pouts.

“Be patient.” George pokes his nose and straightens back up. Dream pouts harder.

“I’ve been.”

George laughs again, “I think I decide when you’ve been, don’t I?” Dream glares. “Don’t I?” He accentuates as he thrusts a leg forward, jutting it in between Dream’s thighs and right up against his crotch. The swiftness catches him off guard and he jumps a little at the not so gentle, but not painful touch. “Hm?” George rubs his leg against him, clearly putting in the bare minimum effort to provide any friction.

Dream sighs surprisedly and quickly feels himself stirring in his boxers. His hips twitch with the want to grind, but he can’t let him win this easily.

“And why would that be?” He tries, voice thankfully less wobbly than he’d anticipated.

George grins and huffs in disbelief “You’re kidding?” He presses his leg harder against him, Dream suppresses squeak, “I wonder why when you’re literally kneeling just for me, doesn’t look like a great power play if I say so myself.” Dream opens his mouth to retort, not really knowing how to counterargument, but gets cut off before even getting the chance to try, “Also, I can feel you are already so turned on from, what?” He proves his point by jerking his leg and Dream almost chokes on a moan, “Me walking in this room? Letting you hump my leg like a horny slut? C'mon now, don’t make this harder for yourself.”

Dream just stares up at him, as much as he’d like to brat around he also wants to just surrender already and maybe George will give him what he wants.

“So?” At his silence George smirks complacently, “Still think you get to decide?”

George’s demeanor, his words, the confidence with which he just knows he’s in charge, his fucking leg that he so badly wants to thrust into. He’s been waiting long enough, fighting will just prolong it all.

Still, getting rid of the whine in his voice isn’t the easiest, “No… please.”

George looks down at him, lips curled amusedly “Please what?”

“I...I don’t know—just,” he gives up and presses his hips forward, his eyes close on a pleasured sigh, “please.” 

George pets his hair and moves his legs away just as Dream got his first thrust. He opens his eyes, thwarted. George walks around him, Dream’s head turning to follow him, and goes to stand behind him, hands placed on his shoulder where he applies a slight pressure. 

“Get those off, will you?”

Dream complies easily, pulling his boxers off without breaking his position too much isn’t the easiest but George doesn’t seem to mind him moving around a bit. In the end, he is quick to get the task done and uncaringly tosses them aside. When he’s done he pushes back a bit, tries to press George’s touch harder on his skin. His fingers play about his collarbones and neck, tickle slightly as they gently brush the skin. Dream feels goosebumps blossom under the trail of touches but can’t focus too much on it as his attention is constantly dragged somewhere else on his body by the ever growing need. He’s gotten so hard just from this and he just wants to tend to it as soon as possible.

“I say…” George ponders for a moment, “one finger, you’d like that?”

Dream hums a whine deep in throat, no, he wouldn’t like that. Well, yes. He would. But he needs more than that. 

George gets a hold of his hair again, on the back of his head this time and more gently than earlier pulls down to make Dream look up above him. With feigned perplexity George furrows his brows together and speaks in an innocent voice, “What’s wrong, Dream, I thought you wanted to touch, maybe I misread this? I’m sorry, maybe we could find something better to do?” 

Dream looks up, not that he has much of a choice, and stops his voice from complaining again, “No, no, I want to!”

In an instant, George’s face turns stern again and a harsh tug makes Dream’s eyes close for a moment “Get to it, then.”

And so he does. He brings the one finger he can to run up his length just to circle around the head and dip slightly in the slit. He repeats the motion a couple times and feels himself writhe from the insufficient stimulation. His breath is growing hot and he needs more. Closing his eyes again, he lets his head be mostly supported by George’s firm, stinging grip and lowly moans in frustration. 

His hips rock forward and the motion is met with an unrelenting wrench to his hair. His eyes snap open and he grits his teeth. “None of that.”

George’s grip is increasingly starting to hurt and Dream wonders if he’s even planning on letting go. The angle is also putting strain on his neck but he tries not to mind it too much attention as he focuses on getting as much as he can out of one lonely finger. The pain actually fuels his want even more as it crisply contrasts the pleasure pooling at his abdomen

All the while, he stares George straight in the eyes, mouth slightly agape, breath rushing past it.

“I almost feel like taking pity on you.” Dream’s cock jumps with newfound hope and his eyes blink faster, “Yes, use your hand,” as soon as George speaks, Dream goes to wrap his whole hand around himself but is stopped as the grip on him is slightly tightened , just for a moment “your left one.”

Dream swallows, stops his motions and then lets his right hand fall to his side. He’ll take that.

“Also, keep it slow,” George adds smiling before finally letting go of Dream’s hair and soothing his hand over the affected area.

Dream lets himself be lulled by the soft, comforting touches and gets to work. He’s not used to using this hand and finding a good pace isn’t as easy as usual. He keeps it slow and gentle, just as George instructed but even like this, it’s driving him crazy. He can feel himself growing impatient under his own touch, breath coming out in uneven huffs and sighs.

At the coldness he suddenly feels on his back, Dream clears his vision and notices George has moved away. He’s walking away from him and towards the bed in front of where he is.

“George,” he can’t help the whine etched into his tone “do… something, please.”

“Hm? I am.” George says, looking over his shoulder and smirking slightly.

“No,” he squeezes his eyes before blinking them open again, the plea clearly readable on the glassy shine “you, to me, please.”

George hums as if deep in thought and Dream keeps staring with wide eyes “Nah, I think I just want to watch,” and he plops down on the mattress, too far away for Dream’s liking. His breath itches “Slower.”

With a pitiful whimper pressed between his closed lips, Dream wills his hand to move even slower. The agonizingly unsatisfactory pace mixed with the awkward angles of his left hand are driving him crazy. He needs—he just—

“Aww,” George cooes, a condescending frown plastered to his face “can’t even get to choose how you get to touch yourself by yourself? How pathetic is that?”

A groan leaves his lips, fuck, his hips stutter and he tries his best to keep in place. And he wants to plead again, he just wants George to touch him, but he wills himself to keep quiet. If George wants him to wait he’ll wait. He has to wait, he wants to be good for him.

When he lifts his eyes to meet George’s again he sees the smile on his lips and he can’t help but smile too. Yes, yes, he wants to make George happy.

“Aren’t you such a good boy for me, Dream?” frantically he nods, he is fuck, he is, “Speed up, just a bit.”’ 

As he complies and revels in that tiny bit more of pleasure he is allowed, his eyes follow as George gets comfortable on the bed. The distance makes him feel undeniably cold. He wants to feel him as close as possible. Just as slowly as everything else, Geoge starts to take off his shirt and pants, his pale skin finally exposed to Dream’s prying eyes and he’s just once again reminded of how much he wants to touch. Feel their skin slide together and caress every inch he can reach. Just at the thought his breaths grow heavier. His hand falters and he messes up his rhythm as he forcefully stops himself from going faster. 

“Already having trouble, Dream?” Geoge notes almost disappointedly, “We barely just started, can’t you even follow such a simple command?”

The words sting and he desperately searches for George’s eyes, he feels relieved when they look kinder than his words “I-I can, please, I’m sorry.”

George smiles, “I know you can, Dream.”

The reassurance makes him giddy, it’s almost a praise and he loves it yet he still wants more, needs more. He’d like to ask, plead again but he can’t. He just said he can be good for George. He can, he must. He can’t—can’t ask. 

In the distance he hears Geoge moan and he realizes he’s closed his eyes. As he lets them flutter back open, they hungrily fall on George, almost all clothes gone and legs wide open as a visible tent presses against the fabric of his boxers. The view alone has all his blood boil in his veins as he feels his cock kick. He too moans, low and deep in his throat as hot flames of pleasure lick at the pit of his stomach. The build up is slow and torturous but soon enough his muscles are contracting and he knows he’s getting close.

“George—“ he warns, choking on his own breath.

“Are you close? Are you about to come?”

“Y-yeah, I…”

“Stay there, Dream,” the stern tone makes him flinch, “I want you to stay on that edge.”

Dream opens his mouth on a silent moan and focuses as hard as he can. He notices he’s holding his breath and consciously makes sure to spot that. He needs to breathe. Deep, slow breaths as he holds his muscles contracted in place. Fuck, he feels euphoric. He never wants this feeling to end. The pleasure coils in his groin, it sweetly burns his insides and it’s almost too much, fuck, he’s so close, so close—-

“Stop, Dream, stop.”

He’s panting, so hard. He most definitely doesn’t want to stop but he manages to tear his hand away. Throbbing, pulsing shocks shoot through him and he grunts, breathlessly. He’s not surprised, George wouldn’t let him finish this fast. 

Blurry eyes look for the figure on the bed, way more composed and put together than Dream could even hope to look like right now. 

“It’s ok Dream, just wind down” 

And he does, slowly falling further away from his climax as the imminence subsides. His knees are really starting to hurt, the pain pierces through his hazy thoughts but he tries his best to stay put.

“Fuck, you are so hot, Dream, all hot and bothered just for me, huh?” George palms himself as Dream tries to pant out an answer “Look what you are doing to me, you’d like to be here with me wouldn’t you?” He chuckles and Dream nods desperately, “Oh, I know, but look, I’ll be nice, you can use your right hand and” he emphasizes “you can go a bit faster, aren’t I kind?”

“Hmm, yes, yes, thank you”

So picks his pace up again, still too slow to feel enough, and he tries his best not to writhe under his own touch. Having George control him this closely—his movements, his position, his pleasure—is certainly doing things to him and it’s almost embarrassing how fast he finds himself getting closer again. A chuckle reverbs through his ears

“Actually, slow down.”

Fuck, he must’ve noticed, of course he would. Dream shuts his eyes and let’s a whine die down between his pressed lips.

George hums appreciatively, “You look so concentrated.”

The smirk in his voice is clear and a blush prickles Dream’s cheeks.

“Aw,” George drags out cooing, “flustered?”

He huffs but what leaves his lips resembles more a moan than a scoff, George really must like poking him like this. Looking for the right buttons to push and make him weak. 

“Cute,” he says, “Like playing all tough and cocky, don’t you? But it’s all an act, isn’t it?” Dream’s eyes lower, his face growing hotter with every word leaving George’s mouth “I mean it must be, look at you, on your knees just for me to play with however I want, you know you can’t fool me of all people.”

Dream’s breath keeps getting heavier and even with his slowed motions his need just keeps on growing. George’s words cut through him with delicious venom. It burns across his chest and spikes a flame down his groin.

The stimulation feels like too much and too little at the same time, he just needs that bit more, stretch his fingers long enough to finally grasp that so ached for release. Funny thing is he doesn’t even know whether he’s even going to reach it tonight and the thought alone makes his blood pump that much faster through his veins. 

He should be focusing more, fuck he knows, but tonight the urge is just too strong. He should be savoring this pleasure he’s being given way more instead of concerning himself so much with the anticipation of what is yet to come.

It’s a slow, torturous simmer. It burns him up and melts his insides

And it goes on and on and on. George is definitely enjoying himself, driving Dream crazy as he brings him closer and closer every time just to have him stop time and time again. 

Dream feels so wrecked, he’s gasping and moaning at every tiniest touch, his skin so sensitive it feels like he’s gonna break every time he gets the smallest friction. His hands are visibly shaking from it, all that build up energy having nowhere to go but buzz under his skin, combust there and turn him on even more.

“Do you want to come yet, Dream?”

His body screams at him yes yes yes! but does he? Does he really want to lose all this pleasure for just a few moments of release? And then be left with nothing? But fuck, if he did come now it would be so incredibly good. After dragging it out for so long it would definitely come crashing down like it rarely has before. He’s so torn.

“You don’t know, do you?” George snickers “But that’s why I’m here right? To manage all this pleasure for you.” 

The words send a thrill down his spine. He doesn’t need to choose, doesn’t even get to honestly. Something about that thought feels both comforting and arousing. 

“Wanna be my good edge slut, don’t you?”

Dream’s breath gets caught in his throat at the words, a louder moan bubbling up in his chest. “Y-yeah—ah, mmh,” he chews on his bottom lip and throws his head back. 

He literally feels his brain turning to mush as his thoughts get clouded and swiped by all the pleasure. Distantly, low groans reach his muffled ears and somewhere along the way he registers George has finally gotten rid of his boxers. A tired smile stretches across his raw lips. George is touching himself too, eyes glazed and hooded as he stares him down. The sight alone makes his head spin, he’s so happy to make George feel this pleasure too. Their moans swirl together in the room and dance around his head. It’s intoxicating and he doesn’t even realize the way his hips lower in a not so subtle attempt to take any of his weight off of his knees. 

“Dream,” George catches him before he can catch himself, “stay put.”

The words are breathy and cracked, not at all as intimidating and commanding as usual, but they don’t need to be. Dream is quick to fix his slip-up. 

“Sorry,” comes just as raggedly and weakly, even as his mouth twists in a pained expression.

“If it’s—“

“Green.” Dream recognizes that expression and George worrying is not what he needs. 

George looks him over, his scrutinizing gaze making him feel tingly exposed. Dream holds himself that much straighter just to prove his point. George’s hands roam around by his sides until they find his phone—check how long it’s been, Dream guesses—and apparently concludes not too much time has passed. The visible care makes a fuzzy warmth blossom through Dream’s chest, but it doesn’t matter if it hurts a bit. It may actually just make it that much more appealing to him.

“Ok, but,” George turns to him as a sterner look spreads across his features “don’t you think that’s a bit disrespectful? Cutting me off like that?” Dream flinches at the stark shift “what makes you think you can just do that, huh?”

“Uhm, I…” He finds himself to be a bit tongue-tied, his thoughts still hazy even as he slowly gets back down. George looks at him expectedly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, so what did you mean?”

“I—” Couldn’t he just wait a few seconds? “I wanted to hurry, I knew what you were gonna ask.”

George’s brows knit together and Dream isn’t sure he wants to maintain eye-contact anymore “So you think talking over me is ok because you want something that is not an emergency?”

“Ow...no.” He lets his eyes drift to the lower half of George’s face until they drag across the floor, “but, George, please… I’m sorry.”

At the beat of silence that follows, Dream recoils on himself a bit. Even if he can’t see it, he feels George’s gaze wandering all over him.

“I’ll take that,” George says in the end having Dream peek at him through his lashes in relief, “but…” he trails off with a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips “I was just thinking I could be nice to you for today, y’know? Maybe I should just keep you like this until… I don’t know, tomorrow? Next week?”

George speaks casually; as if debating the weather or what he’s gonna have for dinner, as if his every word isn’t making Dream’s breath heavier with anticipation, blood running hotter to that very neglected part of his body.

“Next month, maybe?”

At that Dream’s eyes snap to George’s, wide and clear. He can’t. He can’t do this to him. 

Well, he could. Technically, he definitely could. He could and that’s exactly what sends all of Dream’s hair standing on end. He could, but he wouldn’t, would he? 

“I guess I’ll decide, sooner or later.” He ends with a cheeky smile.

Dream just stares at him blankly, his mind conjuring up all the scenarios that cut his patience thinner and thinner. He may or may not want George to go with the last option. It definitely feels a bit scary and overwhelming. Fuck, he’s never gone a whole month, but the possibilities are just so many and enticing. The way George could play with him, make him so desperate and make him beg just to keep denying him for so long. He’s going dizzy from the thought alone.

George hums a laugh at his unresponsiveness and drags his hand down his chest, lower and lower. Dream’s eyes attentively follow the motion.

“Wanna just watch me?”

It’s phrased as a question but it definitely rings as a command. Dream feels his throat constrict around a whine, hands tensing by his sides. If it wasn’t for George keeping him in check, he’d never have this much self-control. He kind of loves it and hates it at the same time.

George’s eyes flutter close as he runs his fingertips up his length, circles them around the tip and then drags his whole grip down. He sighs and strokes back up deliberately. His other hand caresses across his chest, lightly brushing the skin and only coming to a stop when it finds his perked nipple. There he applies the gentlest pressure before pinching it between his digits, a hiss escaping his bitten lips. Dream whimpers in frustration, but George doesn’t seem to mind as he increases his pace, a soft blush adorning the bridge of his nose.

“George…” Dream beseeches tentatively. The tips of his fingers dig into the side of his thighs to make sure they stay there.

George spreads his legs that bit wider, sits more comfortably, and increases his speed. Dream follows the smooth glide of his hand, he wishes it was him, caressing and soothing his skin, making him burn just as much and watching him unravel. But he just sits and waits there. Observers as George moves his other hand to his other nipple and plays with it just as sweetly. His breathing is getting shallower, his skin redder and flushed. Dream wants so badly.

“George,” he repeats, just over a whisper.

George peels his eyes open after a calculated moment, “Hm? Need anything?”

Dream just looks at him, brows knitted together in desperation yes fuck, yes “Please…”

“What is it?” 

“Please, George,” His eyes close briefly to calm his breathing, “Please, I—touch, fuck.”

“Hmm, think you deserve it?”

Yes, or does he? Fuck, maybe. He needs it so bad he’s aching, leaking all over himself, it’s almost embarrassing. Putting words together is harder than expected and he has to consciously swallow before he can even try to speak. “I-I think, please.” He can practically feel his eyes glaze over.

“You know what? Ok, you can do it however you like, just don’t come.”

“Fuck! Yes, yes, thank you!”

As soon as he gets the smallest amount of friction a strained moan falls from his lips. Fuck, he’d like to go faster, rougher, with no inhibitions but he knows he has to keep every movement controlled. As much as he’d want to mindlessly stroke his brains out, he must get a hold of himself. He can’t let himself slip too far just yet. He can’t mess this up. 

George’s sighs and moans intertwine with his and he has to force himself to slow his hand down. Better safe than sorry he thinks as he feels the pressure in his stomach build up. The pleasure washes over him in increasing waves and he throws his head back, eyes screwed shut. In the background he can hear George’s breath grow heavier and faster.

A smile splits across his face just as he hears George climax and he can’t help the exhausted euphoria that fills his chest. Latching onto the last of his resolve he tears his hand away from himself and lets himself pant in the afterglow of his edge.

Eventually, he drags his eyes back to George who smiles at him more kindly than he has in the last while.

“Come here?” His tone is borderline sweet as he pats on the sheets beside him.

Dream rises to his feet then. His knees, visibly red and contrasting with the rest of his complexion, hurt a bit as he moves them. He’s so painfully hard it’s lowkey uncomfortable but he tries not to focus on the heaviness too much.

When he reaches the bed, he prompts a knee by George’s side and leans forward. Clumsy, he plants an uncoordinated, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then, letting their lips part for a brief moment, he dives back in to savor his lips to the fullest. The funny, happy feeling in his chest tickles and spreads even more. He’s so unsatisfied and satisfied at the same time.

“I love you.” He whispers between the warmth of their kiss.

Under his lips he feels George’s morph into a smile. Dream sees a twinkle in his eyes and hisses as soon as a hand caresses up his very much hard cock, pressing it against his stomach. Next thing he knows, George is full on gripping him and somewhere in the haze of his head he registers how George’s hand is so much more pleasurable than his own. He then finds himself being pushed with his back to the mattress, George hovering over him, as all he can do is groan and writhe at the merciless pace Geoge sets. He looks up just to see George smirk down at him as he resists the urge to press his legs together, he’d just make it harder for himself.

“George!” He chokes, “Ah—ah-I can’t!” He shuts his eyes and grasps the sheets when his words go unheard. “Slow-slower please, ah!”

“Nah, I like it like this.” George considers, increasing his speed.

“No, no, I can’t!”

“Well, you can come.”

“No!” He doesn’t want to. This is not what George said, he doesn’t want to come now, maybe later, please not now. He wants to keep all this pleasure and arousal with him at least a little longer.

“You can always stop me if you really want to.”

Dream just moans and lets his body be shaken by the mind-numbing pleasure. He could, of course he could stop him. It’d only take a simple word, but he doesn’t want to use it. Doesn’t need to.

When Dream keeps quiet, or as quiet as his suppressed groans can be, George’s grin grows wider and he clearly puts even more intent into making sure Dream will fall off the edge despite his best efforts.

In an instant, he finally breaks, all the build up pleasure flowing loose and overtaking his whole body. If he said it didn’t feel amazing he'd be lying but part of him is still disappointed as he cries out and shakes.

Breath comes short, but before he can try to steady himself he notices George hasn’t stopped yet. He’s still ruthlessly keeping up the brutal pace and the next time Dream’s voice stutters, it’s in pain.

“Ah! Too much—too much!” He arches his back and presses his head further back into the sheets. “George!”

As George just ignores him, Dream kicks his legs out uselessly. His muscles are contracting painfully but he isn’t even sure how much of it is pain and how much feels good.

“That’s—that’s mean…” He manages to get out through gritted teeth and finally George starts to slow down before halting to a stop.

He looks up and frowns dramatically. George laughs at him. Dream tries his best to keep pouting.

“Oh, com’on! As if I wouldn’t know you’d just get off on me not letting you get off.” He giggles and leans down to kiss Dream’s lips into an inevitable smile.

“Dream?” George asks softly, running his fingers through Dream’s hair.

“Hm?” He’s so tired.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> OK THIS WAS MY FIRST SMUT IDK HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS. However I hope you enjoyed ^^ let me know what you thought of it if you want to
> 
> Also English is not my first language so if there was any language mistake and you’d like to point it out it’d be welcomed!
> 
> Edit: OMG THIS HAS 200 HITS WHY, I KNOW ITS NOT THAT MUCH COMPARED FO A LOOOT OF FICS BUT LIKE THIS IS MAKING ME ANXIOUS AND LETTING YOJ KNOW IT IS MAKES ME FEEL BETTER FOR IDK WHICH REASON, SO SORRY FOR THIS NOTE BUT JSJSJAKANK
> 
> Reasons to not be anxious:  
> 1\. no one knows me  
> 2\. you reading probably don’t care about me or this fic  
> 3\. the cc are ok with this kind of content  
> 4\. there are a lot of not so great fics so if this is one of them it’s fine it’ll just add to the others  
> 5\. I don’t judge the authors of those fics I don’t like so most likely if you don’t like this you won’t care and just not read  
> 6\. What matters is that I had fun writing not what people think of it  
> 7\. IDK BUT ITLL BE OK


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